


Pistol

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, Children, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-28
Updated: 2007-02-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Tragedy and then hope for CJ and Danny





	Pistol

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Pistol**

CJ/Danny, others

PG for topic, one suggestive scene

Not mine, never were, never will be, but they consume my soul

Feedback and criticism always welcomed

After watching and rewatching the “teaser” from “The Ticket”, taking into account the timeline of the universe in which I have chosen to write, and taking into account the human gestation period, I find that I do indeed have to inject some angst into “Holding Hands on the Way Down”. I thought and thought about it and this is what resulted as the best, least painful, most hopeful way out of the situation. (Now I know how Sorkin felt about what he created in “He Shall, from Time to Time”.)

\------------------------------------------------------

_Late May 2008 – UCLA Medical Center_

Something was going horribly, terribly wrong. Two male nurses forcibly pulled him from behind CJ and an anesthetist was trying to get a mask on his wife’s face. She pushed it away and screamed his name. Looking at him with anguish and terror in her face, she shouted, “Baptize th-“.

He pleaded to the labor room personnel in general. “The babies need to be baptized!”

A nurse in light blue scrubs came from behind him and took the two lifeless little bodies over to the sink; he could hear the words “I baptize thee” mumble “in the name of the Father, and of...” The words trailed off as he was pulled into the hallway.

The floor nurse came up to him. “She’ll be fine, Mr. Concannon, it’s really just precautionary. We are all so sorry about... Is there anyone we can contact? You shouldn’t be here alone.”

He reached to his side and remembered that he was in scrubs. “I need my cell,” he told the woman. “The numbers are there.” She went to the safe, unlocked it, and retrieved his phone and his wallet. He punched the “Find” key and started “M” “A” “R”.

No sooner had he hung up with her than he heard his name again. He looked up to see a young man holding a bible with several bookmarks and a rosary. There was a crescent lapel pin on his left lapel. “I am Yusef Shalash, one of the chaplains. The Catholic chaplain is downtown with the Cardinal. They have sent for him. In the meantime, if you like, I will sit with you. I have Gene’s bible and one of the rosaries he gives to people.”

Up to a few minutes ago, it had all been so unbelievably wonderful. They had gone to her doctor’s office together in September after the positive result from the home test and he confirmed the good news. Then came the first ultrasound. The technician was moving the sensor around and listening through a stethoscope when she stopped, asked the doctor to listen, and waited until he nodded his head. Then she turned up the sound and told them to listen and to watch. There were two heartbeats, two separate little pulses on the ultrasound screen. Later that evening, CJ had looked up to him and said something about him being totally insufferable now and he said something about since they had talked about having two kids, her usual efficient self decided to spit them out at the same time. They scanned the ultrasound and emailed it to everyone. They told the doctor that they didn’t want to know sex or sexes, they didn’t want to know identical or fraternal; there are so few pleasant surprises in life, they said. They would wait for this one. When they had the three-dimensional ultrasound done, the staff blurred the genital areas of the babies for them. She experienced the usual symptoms and conditions of pregnancy – the nausea, the fluctuating hormones, the second trimester increase in libido, the swelling. He remembered the last time they had made love before the doctor requested they stop. Lying behind her on the bed, letting her control everything, the only thing he moved were his fingers at her core. He had brought her a diamond-cut platinum snake chain to hold the rings that were too tight for her fingers, and it glistened in the setting sun. They were at home when the contractions started and they were at the hospital in plenty of time. He had called his family and hers; Erin was to have come over in two days to help. There were extra people in the delivery room because of her age and because there were two babies, but nothing ever suggested that there would not be a happy ending.

Yusef read some of the passages from the priest’s bible and then told him of the time when he and his mother were watching one of the press conferences in President Bartlet’s first term. “You and she were bantering back and forth, something about dotting “i”s and crossing “t”s and Mom said ‘There is something there, those two will find joy together, _in shah Allah_ ’”.

He heard footsteps and heard his name. He raised reddened eyes to see John Hoynes approaching him. “What in the name of all that is holy is he doing here?” he wondered. The former vice-president looked at the other man and, taking note of his pin, deferentially asked, “Imam, would you please excuse us for a few minutes?”

“Danny, Margaret knew that I was right here on campus today. I told her that I didn’t think I would be helpful, but then she put Donna Moss soon-to-be Lyman on the phone. That woman, when I first met her, I thought she was, well, you know what I would have thought, but now there is something about her, you should take note of things, you may be writing a book about Donna someday – anyway, she would not hear anything but ‘Yes, ma’am’. There is no way they could have known that if I’m not the last person you would want at a time like this, I’m among the last 20. But they are right, you need someone here. Ellie whatever-her-last-name-is-now is up at Stanford and will be coming down. They are trying to get CJ’s niece off whatever aircraft carrier she’s on off San Diego and chopper her up here. Abbey Bartlet is flying out as we speak. But for right now, I’m the best that those two could dredge up.”

Danny motioned him to the seat beside him. “Thank you, Mr. Vice-“. “Just John now, Danny,” Hoynes interrupted. He began to make conversation. “I saw the wedding pictures and the videos that Sam took. The two of you looked so incredibly happy and joyful, it took my breath away. The two of you deserve so much, Danny.”

One of the doctors came over and began to talk more about what had happened. He only heard parts of the words, something about the umbilical cord, but the former vice-president slipped into his expert mode. He asked the right leading questions, verifying that there was absolutely nothing wrong with CJ, it was just precautionary to make sure that the grief and the shock didn’t cause any more stress to a body already stressed by labor and partial delivery, that the babies appeared to have been perfectly healthy, that there was no reason to not assume that they couldn’t have another baby. Danny found himself thinking that if only Hoynes could have done something about that disconnect that periodically caused him to think with his ..”. His cell rang; it was Donna. She, Sam, and Carol would be out later today. They would also bring Danny’s Jesuit friend from Georgetown. Josh had to stay for some crucial G-8 prep. The Santos’ sent their prayers.

“Mr. Concannon?” It was the nurse who had taken his sons and baptized them. “I’m Mariah”. She turned to Hoynes, who had risen at her approach. “Mr.?” she asked.

The old charm came out automatically. “John Hoynes, ma’am” in his best Texas drawl. He put out his hand. “Damn glad to meet –“.

She smiled at him and he suddenly turned red, stammered, “I’m sorry, that was—“. She smiled again. “I think Mr. Concannon could use a sandwich, maybe the chicken salad, it’s good today, and a carton of milk. The cafeteria is that way,” she gestured. “Would you mind?”

Danny looked at the nurse. She had vague Semitic features, she reminded him of someone. “Are you related to the imam?” he asked.

“Well, if you go back to Adam and Eve, we’re all related,” she joked. “Actually, I am very distantly related to the Jewish chaplain.

“I wanted to let you know that the babies were properly baptized. Anyone can do it in an emergency, but you knew that. Anyway, even though the God I know wouldn’t keep anyone out of heaven for something like that, I know it will give your wife and you comfort. I named them Cosmas and Damian.”

He asked her why, of all the names, she had picked them.

“I don’t know. I just sometimes get to thinking that all those saints who never have anyone named after them must get a little jealous sometimes. Maybe we should match them up with all these designer baby names. St. Polycarp is now St. Polycarp Dweezil,” she giggled.

In spite of himself, he joined in. “And Perpetua is now Perpetua Brittany?”

“No,” she said. “Let’s give Brittany to St. Wilgefortis. After all, she’s the patron saint of unhappily married women!”

He thanked her for her actions. He wasn’t sure that anyone would know what he meant when he asked that the boys be baptized. They talked some more. He found out that her real name was Miriam but right now, she decided to be Mariah, like the wind, because she was a flighty girl until her early teens. She had a child. She reinforced what the doctors said, that there was no explanation, that even that smart-aleck kid of hers who had all the answers wouldn’t be able to explain why. She made some comment about Hoynes as she saw him coming back with the food. Just before she left, she painted a picture of the two little boys crossing into heaven; she looked at him and said, “I’m sure that in the next year, year and a half, you and your wife will have a healthy beautiful baby, another one in a few more years, and who knows after that?” Then she left.

He took the food from Haynes and reflected again on her words about his boys. “And I’m sure that God will bend the rules and instead of making that black lab wait for you, your sons will be crossing Rainbow Bridge into heaven with Pis- - - tol.”

A chill ran up his spine. How did this woman, who appeared out of nowhere to baptize his sons, know about the dog that had been his constant friend and companion, who had shared his bed from age 4 until that horrible day 12 years later when he lay on the floor, his head in Danny’s lap, and breathed his last with Danny’s tears rolling uncontrollably down his face and onto the dog’s coat? He looked down the hallway. She seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

The things she said began to repeat themselves in his head.

She was going to match up forgotten saints with new names so they would have people for whom to intercede.

When she asked the “Why” questions, her know-it-all son would just smile at her with his infinitely loving eyes.

The God she knew would never keep a little baby out of heaven.

She was distantly related to the rabbi and looked vaguely middle-eastern.

When the former vice-president was approaching them, she said it was such a shame that his insecurity in his masculinity sometimes caused him to confuse it with his maleness and that was something that he, Danny, would never do.

She was a flighty kid until something happened at 14 to change her life.

She was wearing light blue scrubs.

She was born Miriam but now she used another form of the name.

“Danny, you’re shaking all over, what happened?”

“Nothing, just adrenaline, I guess”. He took the food with thanks. The chicken salad **was** good.

They came and took him to her room and he sat there, holding her hand, waiting for her to recover from the mild anesthesia.

Hogan arrived, still in her flight suit, hugged him. She said that the former vice-president was at the door to the room. At the door, he saw Ellie running down the hall. Hoynes said he would leave now that Danny had others there for him, but Danny asked him to stay, unless he had something he needed to do. Then he asked the man if he could get something for him and reached into his wallet. The former vice-president said he didn’t need any money and he would gladly run the errand.

In a little while, CJ came to, saw his face, and they both cried in each other’s arms. He told her that he had something to tell her, something that he would share with Tim when he came but with no one else. He told her about Mariah, née Miriam, who baptized their babies and reassigned saints and had an all-knowing son and knew about his childhood pet and who told him that there would be another baby soon and at least one more after that. She told him that she believed every word he said and then she drifted off to sleep again.

He stepped outside for a minute and asked Hogan to sit with her in case she woke before he returned. Hoynes had returned and gave him the package. Abbey called from the plane, as did Donna. They asked some questions.

He returned to the room and she woke again. The Catholic chaplain returned, profusely apologetic, and talked with them. They decided to celebrate a Resurrection Mass later in the evening after the others arrived.

That evening, in the back of the little hospital chapel, tears running down their faces, CJ and Danny made clay impressions of their sons’ hands and feet, clipped locks of hair and tiny pieces of fingernails to put into a small silk-lined box, washed their bodies, dressed them in the baptismal gowns that Abbey had ordered via the web on the plane from a shop in Beverly Hills and had hand-delivered to the hospital, held them, kissed them, told them that they would always be loved, and laid them on their sides, facing each other in the little casket. Danny put the plushy, velvety soft toy black lab puppy he had asked the former vice-president to buy at the nearest toy store between the two little boys. Then, Hogan came in and wheeled her aunt to the main part of the chapel. Sam helped Danny wheel the little white casket in front of the altar and Tim said Mass.

Back in her room, he told her that Abbey and Donna volunteered to dismantle the nursery before she came home tomorrow if he thought it would be a good idea. He told them that the two of them always talked before making most decisions and he was not going to make this one on his own. She said something to the effect that they would only need one set for the next baby, so if the ladies wanted to take one of everything out, maybe they could donate the things to one of those “Choose Life” organizations that put their time, talent and treasure where their tenets were and provided help to women who might need it. He asked if she were sure; they made twins once, who knows what might happen again.

“But, Danny,” she said. “Your Mariah said ‘baby’ in twelve to eighteen months, not ‘babies’, and then another ‘one’ after that. It’s only after those two that she said ‘Who knows’ ”.

\------------------------------------------------------

As I mentioned at the beginning, I have been watching the teaser for “The Ticket” and the gestures, the glances, the smiles, all have convinced me that when Jed asks for a picture of “the baby”, he is talking about an infant and that CJ and Danny are brand-new parents as opposed to second-timers.

Given the timeline that I have chosen, with CJ and Danny marrying in May 2007 and the Bartlet Library dedication being in July/August 2009, and human biology, there needs to be some angst to account for a year or so of time. I think the one I chose brings pain to CJ and Danny for a shorter period of time than one in which it takes them over a year to conceive. My apologies to Cosmas and Damian for killing them off. When you are playing with Pistol, would you also play with Robin, Algernon, Bo, and Destiny, and give hugs for me?

I am not the first person to write about appearances of angels and saints, but I’m sure I won’t be the last. My apologies to anyone who thinks I may have kidnapped their muse. Anyway, didn’t someone say that there are only seven basic plotlines in all of literature and that everything is based on one or more of them?

**They Call the Wind Mariah** – lyrics by Alan Jay Lerner

“Away out here they have a name for rain and wind and fire.  
The rain is Tess, the fire's Jo and they call the wind Mariah.”

**Rainbow Bridge** – author unknown

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together...


End file.
